


Whiteboard

by Falsefaith



Category: Glee
Genre: F/F, Fluff, Friends to Lovers, Friendship, Romantic Comedy
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2013-03-06
Updated: 2013-06-05
Packaged: 2017-12-04 11:12:11
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 16,356
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/710160
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Falsefaith/pseuds/Falsefaith
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>What happens when you cross the line of friendship? Do you pretend it never happened- move on? Or do you take it as a blank slate for something more? Set after "I Do" (4x14).</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Blank Slate

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for giving this a chance and I hope it floats your boat. I give thanks to Lizardmm for looking this over (go look at her stuff - it's solid work). Also, a thank you goes out to Kai for reading a Glee fic even though she dislikes the show. Hope you all enjoy. Oh, one more thing, I'm not an avid Glee fan. If the characters are OOC, I'm so sorry. This is based on what I can remember and I hope I do them justice.
> 
> Reviews are appreciated and feed my muse. :D
> 
> Disclaimer: I don't own Glee or the main characters in this story. The only thing I own is my writing.

The pen spun with ease between Quinn’s fingers. It was a meditative habit she had picked up from her fellow classmates, a great way to pass the time. Considering her last class tended to progress at the pace of a snail, the bored blonde was glad that pen spinning was one of the many skills that she had developed to keep herself busy. On most given days Quinn wasn’t antsy with her studies. In fact, she was doing well at Yale and on some level enjoyed it. But this was her most boring class, her least favorite subject, her most monotonous professor, and it was also the last class of her weekly schedule. And for that particular week, it meant that it was the class that stood in her way to the start of spring recess.  
  
She shifted in her desk to find a comfortable position.     
  
Another lovely skill that Quinn had developed was the ability to text without much need to look at her phone. She could tap at that screen in different positions with ease. Her texting talents had her maneuvering around the virtual keyboard with her eyes closed and even upside down; her study group once placed bets to see if she could do it, and in hindsight it was a dorky thing to do, but nonetheless an easy $50.  
  
When the pen twirls no longer captivated her, she placed the writing utensil down and began tapping at her phone’s screen instead. It had been over three weeks of novel-length text messages and the cowardly act of deleting every single word before being able to commit to hit “send” on any of them. She was having a particularly difficult time reaching out to Santana after what had happened between them at the wedding reception.  
  
She was being completely childish about the situation. But being an adult meant having to be honest with herself, and that was something she wasn’t yet ready to deal with. _Stupid feelings._  
  
The word _Hey_ stood alone on her phone. It seemed like a good opening word. And it was about the only thing Quinn could commit to in most of her unsent texts.  
  
As Quinn fumbled with what to tap out next, her finger grazed over the send button firmly enough to dispatch the unfinished message. As much as she wanted to muster up the courage to text anything, she really had hoped it would have been more eloquent than “hey.”  
  
To her relief, it was only a few minutes later that her phone lit up with a response from Santana. She wasn’t being ignored. Just maybe she was freaking out over nothing. This was her friend after all. The same girl that had made her feel so comfortable the morning after their Valentine’s Day experience; making sure that things wouldn’t change and get weird between them. The same girl that for every day since _the day_ had completely invaded Quinn’s mind in the most bewildering way.  
  
 _S: the ivy league fun committee finally let u out for air?_  
  
The text made her quirk a smile. She could imagine the tan-skinned girl lounging in some horrible coffee shop near her apartment just to get some air away from her roommates.  
  
Between jotting down a couple notes for class Quinn tapped at her phone. “ _Um. Yeah, something like that..._ ” She took a quick glance around the room and saw a few of her classmates passing spring break flyers amongst themselves, trips and parties that had been posted throughout campus for weeks. She bit her lip shyly as her thoughts regressed back to the Latina and the idea of spending time with her friend again – a thought that had become frequent within the last week.  
  
Hazel eyes stared at the blocked numbers at the top of her phone’s screen. Spring break technically was only 30 minutes out of her reach and she really didn’t see the harm in wanting her closest friend for companionship. She was quick to add the words “ _Are you free?_ ” and sent the text before she could chicken out.

 _S: gimme a few, but yea. u can ring me in 5._  
  
A small smile crept onto her face at the words. She could almost hear the Latina’s voice – the warm vibrato that made even the straightest girls swoon.  
  
 _Q: I should have made myself clear. I meant in person._  
 _S: If I wasn’t just outside, I’d say u showed up in romcom fashion to woo me._  
  
She bit her lip at the thought of doing so. What would have happened if she did show up out of the blue? To think of it, she probably would have made the trip all the way to Santana’s doorstep and turned around out of a fear she couldn’t quite put her finger on. Quinn chewed her lip as thoughts, unrelated to her course, raced through her head. _What are you so scared about? She’s Santana... Fuck, I need to stop using my lip as a chew toy._ Quinn ignored the tightening in her chest and refocused her attention of the flat object in her palm.  
  
 _Q: You wish, Lopez. I was trying to ask if you wanted to keep me company._  
 _S: time/place. I’ll toy w/the idea. better ur chances n promise me somethin’ good ;)_  
 _Q: Whatever. My company should be plenty good for you. ;P_  
 _S: now look who’s dreamin’_  
  
She didn’t know why she was grinning like an idiot in the middle of class or why she was possibly flirting with Santana of all people. Okay, maybe she did know why.  She knew she liked it, and in that moment, it was all that mattered. There was nothing wrong with flirting with a girl, especially if she’d already slept with said girl. There were plenty of straight girls that experimented more than just a couple times and could enjoy the company of another female without being gay. She, _Lucy Quinn Fabray_ , could enjoy every single moment of sex with an extremely attractive female friend and still be straight. Sex was to be enjoyed, right? They were young and horny. Nothing too gay about that, right? Friends helping out friends.  
  
Her phone lit up once again and Quinn could feel the fluttering within her chest. Fluttering and grinning like an idiot, those two things definitely made her a little gay, but that could have been a side effect of not having sex; especially if your most recent sexual escapade had resulted in you being thoroughly fucked _\- twice - by a girl._  
  
 _S: u ever gonna tell me time n place. or is this some tit for tat?_  
 _Q: I’m not gonna lie, I’m slightly curious what you would do if that were the case._  
 _S: i think u have a good idea, q. now let that simmer._  
  
Hazel eyes stayed glued to the short response and for a brief moment, Quinn allowed her mind to fully travel _there_. The vivid flood of sensations made her shift, uneasy, in her desk. There was a sudden rise in temperature in the small class, and Quinn could not will for time to pass by any faster than she already had been. It was getting awkward.  
  
 _Q: ...Next week, here. Spring break. Come out on Wed and stay until Sunday?_  
 _S: roommate? i know yale’s fancy stuff but i’m sure its mandatory that dorms r shitty ratholes._  
 _Q: No roommate on those days._  
 _S: boo. was almost hopin i’d be bunkin it with u._  
 _Q: Play nice and you might. That is, if you can handle it._  
 _S: ;) i think u can mark ur calendar for my arrival then._  
  
The days leading up to Wednesday past by relatively quickly with all of the assignments Quinn had accumulated from her classes. Not that the same could be said for the other girl. Santana’s week was dragging between her part-time job and her hunt for small acting gigs. Nevertheless, she had been in a more pleasant mood in the days since Quinn had started texting her again. Both Rachel and Kurt could attest to that mysterious shift. Hell, even the mailman, local baristas, a few waitresses, and the Latina’s new co-workers could tell she was happier. Santana wasn’t on cloud nine, no, she was simply happy to get out of the armpit of New York for a few days; at least that was what she was telling herself. She had never been to New Haven, but she was sure it would be a nice change.


	2. Wednesday

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for taking the time to read this. I hope this update makes you smile once or twice. Enjoy!

**Wednesday**

The morning of Wednesday had Quinn caught in a whirlwind of emotions. She’d never cared about Santana’s visits like this before. Throughout high school Santana had dropped by her home on so many occasions and non-occasions that she couldn’t assign a number to it. But never once could Quinn recall being so excited, nervous, anxious, and happy about the prospect of her friend visiting.  
  
It wasn’t until evening that the abrupt sound of knuckles rapped at her door. Quinn froze as the knocks were followed by Santana’s inimical voice complaining about how “this had better be her room.” Quinn slowed her breathing and took a moment to calm her nerves. She scanned the room in quick appraisal of its appearance before giving a once over of herself. The moment had finally come.  
  
“ _Fuck me_ ,” Santana breathed the moment her eyes met with a pair of hazel orbs. “It’s like Lima’s friggin’ second cousin out here. Just when I thought that New York’s pee-infused air was beginning to permanently damage my pipes, you New Haven people and your overuse of crap-ologne makes me feel like I should give Sunday donations to NYC’s grime.”  
  
“Why _hello_ to you too, San.” Quinn rolled her eyes and pulled the door open for the girl to roll in her luggage behind full-length strides.  
  
Pale fingers pushed at the rough painted surface of the door to shut it with a near silent click. The room behind her was quiet again, and if she didn’t know any better, Quinn would have said that her mind had just conjured up Santana’s arrival. She clamped her eyes shut for a split second; doubt in her decision to invite Santana had begun creeping into her thoughts. _We both might end up combusting by Sunday. Like oil and water. Like fire and ice. Like left and right... Like- Okay, stop. Heaven knows this list could go on and you can’t stand like this forever._ An unsteady breath spilled from her lungs before she turned around to face her guest. She was startled when she spun on her heels and straight into Santana.    
  
“ _Hi,_ ” Santana whispered. She was in Quinn’s room, in her space, and it was surreal. She didn’t know what to do with her hands, so she folded her arms. A ghost of a smirk rested on her lips.  
  
“ _Jesus,_ ” was all that Quinn could mutter. Her brain wasn’t functioning the way that she needed it to, not when her lungs were being invaded by an alluring balance of rosewood and citrus. _She smells delicious. I wonder if she ta- Oh, that’s so not normal to think._  
  
The blonde could feel her hands become clammy from Santana’s proximity. _Focus, Quinn... stop staring at her like a dog in heat. Look aloof. Look something other than just a deer in headlights._  
  
“Wrong person, Q.” The brunette’s delicate features creased in thought, her eyes slightly narrowing with curiosity at Quinn’s inner workings. It was a gaze that sent a shiver down Quinn’s spine. _Look away, she can probably read you with her ridiculous clairvoyant third eye._  
  
As if she had a private viewing of Quinn’s inner workings, dimples pressed the surface of tanned skin as a mischievous smile slid into place. “Jesus is probably walking down the halls of McKinley barefoot and contracting some third-world disease from sexually deviant foreign exchange students,” Santana mused. “ _He_ is definitely not here. _I. Am. Though_.” She emphasized each of the last few words to solidify herself to the blonde.  
  
“Shut up,” Quinn shushed, failing miserably at withholding a smile. All doubts were forgotten and she held out hope, just maybe, things could be easy between them. “Gimme a hug before I decide to hit you instead.”  
  
“ _Wanky._ ” The brunette’s arms snaked around Quinn’s torso with familiar ease. Both girls tightened their hold, neither making the first move to let go of the other. Fingers clutched onto heavy wool and soft cotton as they busied themselves with the comfort of the other’s warmth, far too intoxicated on the familiar scents that filled their lungs to attempt to pull away. “I see we’ve upgraded from slapping to hitting. What’s next? A full beat down?”  
  
“No. I believe that would be a full circle back to when we ruled McKinley,” Quinn whispered the words against the wool of Santana’s jacket. They smiled to themselves, both understanding just how much they’d been through and how far they’ve come.    
  
Music blared from Santana’s purse, causing the two girls to reluctantly take a step back from the needed solace.  
  
Santana fished the device from her oversized bag and saw that it was Rachel beckoning her. Her thumb swiped at the screen to answer the call as she mouthed sorry to her hostess. A shy smile crept over the blonde’s lips before she broke their eye contact to make her way over to Santana’s belongings.  
  
“What, ‘copter-mom?” Santana rolled her eyes in annoyance. “Yea, I’m obviously alive and not kidnapped. I picked up didn’t I?” She paced in the small space between the two beds as Quinn placed the luggage inside her closet.  
  
“Yea, no. I’m not using the safeword to let you know if I’m kidnapped or not.” Santana pinched the bridge of her nose before she threw her hand up in the air. She could feel a headache rearing its ugly head. “One, it’s a stupid safeword. And two, I’m not kidnapped.”  
  
As Quinn sank into the edge of her mattress, patterned sheets loosened from tucked corners.  Her hands gripped at the sides to keep herself propped up. She smiled at the sight of the woman before her. A frustrated Santana was a cute one. At least when that frustration didn’t turn into a Santana who was batshit crazy and angry at you.  
  
The Latina’s pacing came to a still, her hand coming to a rest at her hip, “You too. Try not to damage yourself while I’m out here. What am I saying? It’s you. Just try not to hurt yourself to the point where I’d have to cut my trip short and end up kicking your Broadway ass once I’ve helped you recover,” she sighed. “Uh huh, will do. _Bye_ , Rach.”  
  
Santana slid the phone onto Quinn’s desk before collapsing onto the spot next to the seated blonde.  
  
“Safeword, huh?”  
  
“Shut it. She refused to let me leave, and I didn’t want to be late for my train.” Quinn quirked a manicured eyebrow over at the brunette next to her. “What? I wanted to see you.”  
  
The honesty of the words had the blonde’s chest tightening in response. _If my chest keeps doing this I’ll need to go to the doctor or something. Do people develop respiratory issues at my age? Pull it together, Quinn. You’re at your prime._  
  
“So, what’s the safeword?”  
  
“Barbra Streisand.” Santana deadpanned at the name and Quinn laughed.  
  
“Figures.”  
  
“How am I supposed to use that safeword- words- and make it seem normal? Any kidnapper with a pea-sized brain would know something was up.”  
  
“Let’s just hope that’s not something you’ll ever have to find out, okay?”  
  
Santana nodded and attempted to stifle a yawn. If Quinn hadn’t noticed it before, she was seeing it now; the brunette was tired. If one looked hard enough, they’d notice the lack of the glint that was normally in her eyes. From the moment Santana had walked in, she hadn’t taken off her jacket or done much to make herself comfortable. Even her impractical heels were still on her feet.  
  
“God, it sucks being there sometimes. I can’t threaten the preggo and that was half the appeal of living there.”  
  
“What?” Quinn gasped. Her mouth gaped at the news, her brow lifting in surprise.  
  
“Yea, the hobbit is pregnant.” Santana’s voice stayed steady with every word that left her mouth. She, unlike Quinn, had had the last few weeks for the novelty of the news to wear off. But she did find out that pregnancy jokes never really did get old. “But you don’t say anything. It’s a complicated matter according to her.”  
  
Quinn’s hand lifted in innocent surrender to the command. “Okay. I won’t tell a soul... But, wow. I guess it’s gonna be one hell of a year for everyone.” Quinn crossed her legs and folded her arms. In a blink of an eye, her mind replayed the events of her experience with Beth. The confusion, the helplessness, anger, wants, regrets, hope, and sorrow. She felt her heart ache at her own life trials and for those that her friend had yet to fully endure. This was only the beginning. There were no easy choices, no move that could be made that would ever permanently close this chapter or erase it from Rachel’s life; that much Quinn had learned in her own short time of being alive.  
  
“Yea... she told me to tell you, Quinn.” Raven hair splayed across the canvas of Quinn’s bedding as Santana laid back. “I think she’s hoping that you’ll talk to her, since, you know...”  
  
“Since I’ve been through the same thing? Yea, I know. And I will.” She sighed and looked over at a sight that she could almost label as peaceful. It was a view that was enough to lure her to take her place beside the brunette, both girls mirroring each other’s placidity. It was a nice change compared to their old habit of escalating the other’s anger. “But not right now. Not over the phone or chat. I think it’s best if I spoke with her in person. It’s a delicate thing to go through.”  
  
Santana nodded in agreement with Quinn’s logic. A part of her chest warmed at the idea of the other girl taking a trip out to New York sooner rather than later.  
  
“So, what do you have planned for us, Q?”  
  
“Um... nothing. I guess I’m a pretty bad hostess.”  
  
“You’re telling me, I went through an annoyingly painful train ride, navigated through Snore Haven’s lameness, used up my death-glare reserve on about ten high-nose losers and loserettes, just to come here to do _nothing_?”  
  
Quinn watched as the corner of chocolate eyes narrowed in disbelief. “ _Maybe_?”  
  
Sharp eyes turned to meet Quinn’s gaze before they ventured over the features of her face and downward at her chest. Santana made no move to be subtle of her stare. Instead, the tip of her tongue playfully moistened her bottom lip before biting down. “That’s it. You’re putting out or I’m going home.”  
  
“You’re such a bitch.” Quinn’s laugh echoed through the room as Santana grinned and waggled her eyebrows. “And you’re a perv.”  
  
“You know... I’m learning a lot about you, Q. And I thought I knew you well.”  
  
“Like?” There was a genuine curiosity behind Quinn’s voice, an amusement of sorts.  
  
“Like, you’re all talk... no game. What are you afraid of? A three-time thing?” The Latina quirked a cocky grin.  
  
“Watch yourself, Lopez. I might just break you it that were to happen.” Quinn nudged at her bedmate’s side and a quiet laugh escaped Santana’s lips. There was a truth in the words for both of them. Neither wanted to accept the possibility of a reality where the other could be the key to their own personal balance. They’d established a relationship that worked for them. Traversing this unknown territory would be like rolling dice; they could win big or lose it all. That, and their sex, even while drunk and uncoordinated, was mind-blowing; a third time would be risking their sanity.  
  
A comfortable silence fell between them as they both allowed the remaining tension in their bodies to dissipate.  “How about we go out and get some food? Maybe pick up a movie?” Another yawn escaped the brunette and Quinn nodded at her plan in confirmation. “Yup, it’s going to be a short night.”  
  
“I think you might be right.” Santana stretched against the bed and looked almost comfortable enough to sleep. “I didn’t get much sleep last night and the train was the last place I wanted to pass out on.”  
  
Quinn rested her head against Santana’s shoulder. The small gesture draped a heavier layer of calmness over both of them.  
  
“You could always take a nap.”  
  
“No. I’m not five.” After a few seconds of resting her eyes, Santana carefully pushed off from the bed and spun to look down at Quinn. “C’mon. Lets go get some food and then we’ll stream some stupid gag-me chick flick once we get back.”  
  
“Please, like I’ve never caught you staring wide-eyed at those movies and cursing at the leads for being so dense.”  
  
“Shut up. I will deny that even on my deathbed.” A lazy smile slipped into place as a tanned hand extended out towards Quinn. The offer was accepted and Quinn was pulled from her comfort. _Since when was sleepiness transferable?_  
  
“You wanna eat here? Or do you want to go out?” Quinn questioned the other girl as she unhooked her purse from the back of her desk chair and rifled through her belongings.  
  
“If you don’t mind, I think _here_ is better.”  
 ~~~~  
  


* * *

~~~~  
  
  
The trip to a nearby Chinese restaurant had them back in the dorms within the hour. Along the way they traded theories on Rachel’s pregnancy, the possibly that Brody was the Ken doll incognito, their observations on Kurt’s love life, and how they were personally settling into their respective environments. It was simply two friends catching up. Two friends who sometimes forgot that, at the end of the day, they had each other. Relationships and other friendships were placed before what they had between them. And if anything were to come out of their one night together, it would be a self-promise to not neglect one another.  
  
Time passed by with familiar ease as both girls ate directly out of takeout containers. It was a nice change from the days filled with awful meal replacement shakes and salads without dressing. Not that they could ever fully indulge in the delight of truly bad food for long; their bodies would make them pay. Their containers did well to hide the true contents within; steamed rice, steamed vegetables, fried tofu, and an orange chicken as their one superbad-yet-so-good entree.  
  
When they finished their food, both girls scampered off to clean up before winding down for the night.   
  
Quinn pulled her comforter over her legs and settled against the wall while Santana plopped onto her stomach on top of the covers. From the bed, Santana was able to reach up to the desk to use Quinn’s laptop. It took her no more than 3 minutes to have the computer running and with Netflix on the browser. Selecting a movie, however, took them over 30 minutes of non-stop browsing and compromising.  
  
The length of the movie was filled with Santana’s lively commentary. She cursed at the plotline and strangled her pillow from frustration. At one point, Santana even paused the movie and gave a pained look at Quinn. But the blonde wasn’t having any of it; she forced them to continue through with their selection.  
  
“San?”  
  
“Yea?” The brunette was fully engrossed by the ending scenes of the film.   
  
“Can I ask you something?” Quinn toyed at the corner of her comforter.  
  
“Yea, yea.  Ask,ask...” Brown orbs stared unblinking at the laptop screen. “Oh what the-” Her words stopped short as if the access to her vocabulary was revoked. Quinn couldn’t help but smile in amusement at how riled up her friend was getting. “ _El burro sabe más que tú_ ,” Santana grumbled a little more before another sudden outburst of Spanish filled the room. “ _Tirate a un pozo_.”   
  
Quinn shifted in her comforter at the foreign words. _Since when did the word ‘donkey’ get sexy?_ Burro _... it must be the rolling of the R’s. Note to self, polish up on this sexy language._  
  
“Stupid two-face ass,” Santana huffed in disbelief. The words momentarily broke Quinn’s train of thought. _Second note to self, find a sexier word than_ burro _to say._  
  
“Did you seriously say that a donkey was smarter than her?” It was the first time Quinn had fully caught the attention of the other girl from the last act of the film. Quinn had lost interest in the movie a ways back. Who needed to watch a rather predictable storyline when you had the mother of all commentators in the same bed to entertain you? “Though, you did lose me at the second part.”  
  
“I’m impressed. Glad to know you’ve been brushing up on _Dora the Explorer_.”  
  
“Haha. I didn’t sleep through all of my Spanish classes.”  
  
They shared a soft smile as the credits rolled in the background. “That movie sucked.”  
  
“You picked it. If I recall correctly, a certain someone may have said something like ‘Oh my god. If I watch another breeder romcom I might have an aneurysm. I’m _sure_ any damn lesbian movie would have more depth to it.’ et cetera, et cetera...” Quinn leaned towards the other girl. “And this is how we don’t choose movies. Movie roulette is not a proven method.”  
  
“Fine. But in my defense, the masses of taco-divers on imdb rated this one high up on their list of good gay movies.”  
  
Quinn rolled her eyes and laughed. “Sure. You keep telling yourself that.”  
  
The springs of the bed groaned as Santana propped herself up to navigate Quinn’s laptop, closing out the browser and shutting down the machine.   
  
“Hey... earlier you said you had a question. What was it?” Tanned hands closed the laptop carefully before flopping down onto her stomach.  
  
“I- um. I was just- uh,” she stammered. _Form a sentence! For god’s sakes, you were prom queen, honor student, and are a future Yale alumni. You know how to speak._  
  
“Just spit it out, Q. Don’t beat the bush and abandon the crime scene.”  
  
The blonde knitted her brow. “I don’t think that’s how the saying goes.”  
  
Santana brushed off the words with a shrug. All that matter was that her message was understood.  
  
“Fine.” Quinn sighed at how ridiculous she felt. “...what is it like to be with a girl?”  
  
The blonde could see Santana’s body stiffen at her words. She didn’t have to look at her face to know that there was a frown etched deep into her brow. “Alright.” Springs creaked under the weight of flexed arms as Santana pushed off her stomach and hopped from the bed. 

Quinn watched the toned body in slight awe at its grace, with a gaze that left her oblivious to the fact that Santana was pulling her shirt off. 

“ _Strip_. I know we were slightly drunk the first time, but the time after you were definitely sober.” Santana was quick to untie her pants and wiggle out of the loose plaid material. “Sex with me is in no way bad. So let me just give you a refresher course, Fabray.”  
  
Quinn’s laughter bellowed from the depths of her chest, and she bit her lip at the amusing sight. As much entertainment as she got from watching the tan girl strip, she had to make her stop. Her hands came up in pleading.  
  
“Tempting. But that’s not what I meant.” Quinn’s gaze dropped to Santana’s low-rise boy shorts before peeling away to look back up at the half-naked girl. Her eyes landed on the smug look of the brunette’s face. “What I was trying to ask was, what is it like to date a girl? To be in love with one? To feel _that_ way about her?”  
  
Santana rolled her eyes at the mention of feelings. Ignoring the other girl for a moment, she searched for her discarded shirt and pulled it back on.   
  
“I dunno. It’s like dating a guy but softer and without the built-in dick.” Santana shot a hopeful look over at the seated blonde, only to be met with eyes that were unsatisfied with the answer. She folded her pants and tossed them to the side. “Hell, didn’t we just watch a movie about this? When you’re in love, I can’t imagine the gender being the main factor you’re in love with. But yes, there are differences... girls just do stuff better.” With that, Santana winked at Quinn and smiled.  
  
“... Girls just do stuff better.” Quinn laughed at the simplicity of the words. “You know, I could have gotten that answer from any little girl on a schoolyard.”  
  
“What can I say? I’m not a writer or a poet or a cracked-out musician. You’re not getting a sonnet on how it’s like to be with a lady.” Santana sank back onto the edge of the bed. She looked worn, the lack of sleep coming to fruition. Quinn smiled at the wry girl before placing a chaste kiss to Santana’s tired head.  
  
“Thanks for trying.”  
  
“I can show you though,” Santana offered through a yawn.  
  
“Elaborate...” Quinn’s hand unknowingly clutched at her comforter a bit tighter.  
  
“I’ll treat you like you’re my girlfriend for a day,” Santana went on to clarify. “I’m serious. I can show you how it’s like to be with a girl. No strings attached or heart to break. However, I must warn you. After you get a taste this, all other pieces of ass will only fail to satisfy you.”  
  
“Okay,” Quinn consented.   
  
“Okay?” There was a hint of disbelief in her response.  
  
“Lets see what you can do, Lopez,” she challenged. “I’ll take the gamble.” If the blonde was being truly honest with herself in that moment, she’d admit that she wanted it; that she wanted to be with Santana in that emotionally intimate way. God knows they had the physical part down pretty well. Nevertheless, the truth was difficult to deal with, so instead, Quinn desperately grasped at reasons that would explain what she was feeling. _This is just going to give you better insight into lesbian culture, nothing more. In the name of science, right?_  
  
“Wow. I guess we’ll get this show started tomorrow?”  
  
“Sure. I suppose it’s as good as any other day. Also, this is fitting. The girl to give me my first lesbian sexual experience will also be my first ‘girlfriend’ experience.”  
  
“I’m telling you... you should let that warning sink in. You’re kinda setting yourself up for a lifetime of disappointment with future lovers.”  
  
“I would like to see you try,” she giggled. “But in the off chance that it does prove to be true, I’ll just have to find a way to keep you around, won’t I?”  
  
Santana nodded in agreement. Another yawned escaped her before Quinn lifted the edge of the comforter for the other girl to join. The tanned girl didn’t think twice about the invitation. She slid into the outer side of the bed with ease before reaching over to switch off the light.  
  
“Hey, Quinn?” she murmured.  
  
“Yea?”   
  
“Please tell me I’m not sleeping in the cum-crusted covers that was bestowed upon your bed by Gandalf the professor.”  
  
“Gross,” Quinn muttered. She pulled at the cover to tuck herself in. _I can assure you there is nobody’s cum on these sheets._  
  
“That doesn’t answer my question.” Quinn ignored the words, hoping for silence to overtake them both. “Ew. If I wanted to be covered in some geezer’s man-juice, I’d be a strip-.”  
  
Quinn turned over and steadied herself above Santana. The movement was quick and precise; it caught the tanned girl off-guard. The nearness unnerved them both. Their breathing became shallow as eyes adjusted in the dark to hold each other’s gaze. It was Quinn that found her focus first, a wicked smile crooked at her lips. She leaned into the girl beneath her, making sure to linger as she dipped her head to travel the length of Santana’s neck to her ear. The blonde’s breath was hot, and for those moments, Quinn’s breathing was the only sound that Santana could hear.   
  
Low vibrations slipped from Quinn’s throat. “San?” She smirked at how tense the girl beneath her was. “I assure you, the only cum that was ever bestowed upon this bed was that of _my own_.” The casual brush of her lips over the shell of Santana’s ear drove a warmth to stir between them both. “Why don’t you-- how do I say this? _Let that simmer._ ”   
  
_Checkmate._  
  
Satisfied with the lack of response and an audible gulp, Quinn settled back into her side of the bed and waited for sleep to take her. It didn’t come easy for either of the bedmates that night.   
  
_Third note to self, don’t do shit that makes you wanna grind against a hot body before sleeping. It’s not fun for you._


	3. Thursday

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for all the comments and kudos. Love you guys for taking the time to read this (and for those that stalk this). Your kind words make me feel like I'm not completely bad at this... so I'll keep on going. Maybe this chapter will give you something to smile at. I'm a big fluff ball, I know.
> 
> Also, I have noticed that this site doesn't show italicized words on certain browsers, which is super confusing for the parts where I mix in Quinn's thoughts. If you don't see the italics, try a different browser. First italicized line in this chap: "The dragon had awoken." Sorry.

**Thursday**

The midday sun flooded the small dorm room with its warmth; white, painted walls helped to intensify the illumination, making the room a human-sized lightbox. This was the downside of having a room that faced sunrise. It was also enough reason for Quinn to keep her eyes shut, even though she had been awake for quite sometime. It wasn’t that she wanted to depart from the land of slumber; she just couldn’t fall back asleep. It was the point of no return for her – the ever-present faint hue of red stretched the vast emptiness of her inner eyelids. That and there was a very warm body sharing her increasingly small twin-sized mattress.

Initially she woke up because a certain person in her bed had a wandering hand issue, while fully unconscious. This was fact. Quinn even confirmed the new finding with sound testing methods. She waved her hand, she nudged, _shoved_ , she threaten to break parts on the sleeping girl. She had even whispered choice words of seduction to no avail. Eventually, the hands of her bedmate did settle, one hand coming to rest at the waistband of Quinn’s pajama bottoms and the other tucked against her shoulder blade. For a short while, Quinn found some relief as she teetered on the edge of sleep for what seemed too brief a time. It wasn’t until she felt Santana stir that Quinn knew her hope of sleep was gone. _The dragon had awoken._

“You ready?” Santana’s voice rasped against Quinn’s ear.

Instead of responding verbally, like a lady would do, Quinn opted to grunt as she rolled onto her stomach and buried her face into her pillow.  It was soft, plush, and almost noise cancelling if she could just wrap it around to cover both of her ears. She reasoned that if she took no notice of her companion, she’d be left in peace to sleep. But Quinn should have known better; she should have known that Santana Lopez was a force not to be ignored.

Santana slithered her way on top and straddled Quinn’s calves; it gave her a nice view of Quinn’s ass. She was careful in her movements, making sure that the covers didn’t completely shed from the lower half of their bodies. 

“You still have time to back out.” Santana rocked from side to side to get the material of her pants to loosen at the knees. Once comfortable, she arched herself forward to settle the length of her body against Quinn’s backside. Her movement was painfully slow for Quinn’s liking; it was deliberate. She slid with the grace of a vixen, and both of them damn well knew it. Santana made sure to take her time as she melded their bodies together; it was as much for her own enjoyment as it was to test the will of the girl beneath her. 

The small amount of friction was enough to stir a warmth between them. Just how far could their game go? On a purely physical level, neither one of them could deny that their bodies worked in sync and fit like two halves of the same – _sexual goddess_ – soul. There was an instinctual sense, a map of sorts, as to what the other wanted and needed during sex. They found their rhythm without a need to try. _Effortless_. And they both had to marvel at how every curve of their own body matched the other’s dip a little too well. Should anything ever be that easy between them? After all, this wasn’t Brittany and Santana. This was Quinn and Santana.

Santana wanted to make sure that Quinn was getting the full effect. If the lack of bra-wearing didn’t get Quinn going, they both could conclude that she was definitely straight. But the feeling of harden nipples through sheer sleep shirts didn’t go unnoticed. The simple act had Santana resisting the urge to grid down as much as Quinn held back an equally intimate act. They were so close to each other. Body against body, breath against skin. Neither missed the quiet moans that spilled forth. They did, however, ignore the confusion that swam in their heads about their current predicament. Quinn wasn’t gay, and Santana wasn’t going to be anyone’s pitstop; it was their job to be hers – all reasons that both girls clung to in their own need for control, and at the same time, to safely be able to push the lines of their friendship.

“I honestly hope you don’t quit before we even start.” Soft words were muttered behind the shell of Quinn’s ear. The fluttering breath and feathered touch of Santana’s lips sent a shiver down Quinn’s spine and caused her to smirk.

There was a chilling truth that lay beneath the surface of those words. This was a more vulnerable side of Santana. One that Quinn was curious to see more of, one that she only had glimpses of in all the years that they’d known each other. Tender moments that had always been reserved for another blonde, while the crueler truths were reserved for herself.

“What time is it?” Quinn’s voice was gravelly from sleep. She could feel Santana shift her weight for a split second.

“12:21... Why?” Santana inquired.

“I just wanted to make a note about when this whole girlfriend experience is starting.” Quinn rubbed at her eyes as she yawned. “Switch places with me.”

“You’re a bossy girlfriend, ya’know?” Santana frowned at the girl below. Quinn merely shrugged and brushed off the words as she blinked away her sleepiness. 

Santana grumbled during their reversal, but she did what she was told with little resistance. Even Quinn had to make note at how easy it was for their bodies to maneuver around each other. Santana slipped into place beneath her with ease. 

Without needing to look at where the marker was on her desk, Quinn reached over to the base of where the whiteboard sat on top the wooden surface. She balanced on one arm and prepared to write with the other. Her new position had her chest hovering above Santana’s face. If it was anyone else, she’d probably care about the fact that she had no bra on and was in a _delicate_ proximity. But this was Santana, her locker room companion, her first mind-blowing sexual experience, and for today, _her girlfriend_. Knowing that caused Quinn’s stomach to churn, but even she had to admit it was an oddly enjoyable discomfort. _I wonder if this means that deep down in my psyche I’m a masochist?_

“What are you doing?” Santana took her time at enjoying her new view. “Not that I’m complaining about this morning’s visit to the valley of Fabray.” The brunette could feel a flood of new warmth wash over her. Quinn’s sleep shirt had a cut that didn’t leave much to the imagination, and with her positioned above and the neck opening falling open just enough, Santana found it particularly difficult to pry her eyes away from the swell of the blonde’s breasts.

Quinn shook her head and chicken scratched **12:21** on the whiteboard. Tossing the pen back onto the hard surface, she carefully dropped her weight directly down onto the girl beneath. She dead-weighted in the position before doing a little shimmy.

“How are you liking the valley now, San?” She could feel the vibrations of the girl’s laugh against her sternum. Tanned hands pushed against her stomach to allow some air between them.

“Shit, Quinn.” Santana’s laugh subsided. “Way to find every lesbian’s secret death-wish.”

“Death by boobs?” Quinn pushed off on fully extended arms and cocked an eyebrow. “I don’t buy it.”

They shared a comfortable smile at their own silliness before Quinn settled back down onto the bed and into Santana’s loose embrace. After all, it was easier to cuddle on such a small bed rather than lay side by side. Who could fight with that logic? Ignore the fact that there was a perfectly good, untouched, twin bed on the opposite side of the room. But if you asked Quinn, she’d say the bed was questionable in its cleanliness, and she didn’t have the heart to subject any guest to risky conditions.

As both girls enjoyed the ease of their morning, they stayed focused on the rhythm of their hearts. It wasn’t until Quinn’s mind started to wander in thought did she tense. There was a lot of new things she was feeling, and it was a bit overwhelming. How could this thing between them feel as normal as breathing? _This feels too good._

Sensing the other girl’s shift, Santana rubbed at Quinn’s back and broke the silence. “Hey, you never told me how far this girlfriend thing can go.” She paused in thought before speaking again. “Like body contact. Though you do seem quite comfortable with it considering my lovely visit between twin peaks.” 

A shade of blush swept over Quinn’s cheeks. Her hand was quick to swat at a tanned arm. 

Santana bit back the grin that played on her lips. “But kissing... other forms of touching?” Those words coming from Santana had Quinn’s stomach twisting and turning, along with other warm frilly feelings stirring inside.

Quinn tilted her head to look at the brown orbs just above her head. _God, that look. Do Mexican third eyes have the ability to make you feel like you’re putty? Wiki this later._

“I- I want the whole deal. I want to know what it’s like.” _Why are you saying this out loud?_ “So if you’d do it with someone you’re dating...” _Shut up. Keep cool and play this smart._ “I really want it all,” her voice cracked. _You just had to throw in that really. Well, here we go, brace yourself._

To Quinn’s surprise, she was greeted with a smile and firm nod. There was no snarky remark or crude joke, but rather, there was a general understanding.

“So you’re fine if I kiss you here?” Santana lightly pressed a finger to Quinn’s forehead, causing the blonde to lift a curious brow, but nodding nonetheless.

 _Oh god, this is sappy._ The tanned girl pointed to another spot and Quinn nodded once again; she was entranced by the frank action. She knew how childish and gag-worthy this whole thing was, but it was as if she had an out-of-body experience. _Stop nodding. Stop enabling this ridiculous behavior._ The kisses continued until Santana landed on a particular area on Quinn’s neck that was a bit too ticklish, and they both had to stop due to a fit of giggles.

“So, what do you wanna do on this beautiful Thursday afternoon?” Santana toyed with Quinn’s hair.

Quinn’s eyes fluttered shut upon hearing the question. _If reincarnation is real, I was definitely a cat in my past life. God, keep doing that. Mmm._ Quinn replayed the question in her head.

Hazel eyes snapped open. “Did you say Thursday?” She bolted from the bed and dove into her closet.

“Yea.” Santana’s brow knitted together in concern as she watched her friend strip off clothing. “If you weren’t so frantic, I’d guess you wanted some sex.” Much to Santana’s disappointment the blonde started putting on clothing just as fast. “But I think we’re tossing that idea off a cliff.”

“Yoga,” Quinn called from within her closet.

“What’d you say, closet case?” The dark haired girl snickered at her own words. 

“Yes. Found it.” Blonde hair emerged from the confined space a bit disheveled. Between her hands was a neatly rolled blue yoga mat and a pair of pants. She tossed them toward the seated girl. “Those should work for you.”

“Um. Clue me in here.” It wasn’t that Santana couldn’t put the pieces together, but she was clinging to the thin strain of hope that Quinn was into sex on yoga mats. But that wasn’t the case at all. Quinn wasn’t going to miss class, and she wasn’t going to let Santana sleep in the dorm room when she wasn’t able to herself. 

Both girls got ready quickly. When they were done, they concluded that there was enough time for them to do a light jog to the nearby studio and be on time for the class.

“Remind me, why do I have to do this? Last time I check, I’m the hottest bitch in this town,” Santana contested as she picked up her pace. “I doubt yoga will do much for my goddess-like figure.”

“Every soul yearns for stillness and balance. Yoga is the path to finding it.” Quinn’s focus was on the path ahead; she was the one leading.

“Uh huh. Who told you that, Gandhi?” The brunette showed off a bit by jogging around her companion.

“I may have found it inside of a candy wrapper once.”

“Ironic, don’t you think? Exercise advice from fatty treats.”

“True, but shouldn’t we take wisdom in any form that it comes?” Santana nodded at the rationale. “Anyway, how else can I keep in shape if I don’t at least put in the effort?”

“Ah, there’s the narcissistic reasoning I was looking for.” A large grin found its way on the tanned girl’s lips.

 

* * *

 

It was a small studio that stood alone. Dull, blue, chipped paint covered the bulk of the exterior, making the building look like the residence of an absentee homeowner rather than a place of business. A real estate agent would have called it quaint. The interior however was different story; it was updated and well invested in. Buffed hardwood floors looked well-maintained. Floor to ceiling mirrors lined the entire front of the studio, while large windows on another wall lit the entire studio with a soft glow of natural light.

A low whistle slipped from Santana’s lips as she observed the class of 20 or so people. Everyone was mingling and waiting for the session to begin. Groups of friends laughed together, while a couple of strays tapped at their electronic screens for amusement. There were a couple others, but their attention was mostly focused on the participants of the class and not a smartphone.

Quinn led the way to the back corner of the studio and waved for the tanned girl to follow. Santana yanked at the strap that was digging into her shoulder as she walked after the blonde. She couldn’t help but find a new appreciation for the small class as she took a good look around.

“So... this is where all the hot Yale girls gather?” The comment earned Santana a firm elbow into her side and a stern look.

“Behave yourself. You’re worse than the guys in this class.”

“That’s cause they’re all glitter fairies.” She fluttered her hands and batted her eyes for an added effect. “But, there are a few pervs in here.”

Both girls unrolled their mats and placed their belonging against the farthest wall. They engaged themselves in conversation, but mostly it was Santana trying to convince Quinn that they could still ditch. She went so far as to point out that the class must have sucked so bad if even the instructor skipped out. To Santana’s credit, she also offered Quinn a private lesson in stretching, in bed, if the blonde insisted on this type of workout. That offer was however rain-checked.

The front door opened abruptly, sounding a tiny bell and spilling a flood of harsh light into the room. A pale skinny girl ungracefully pulled herself through the door. Even though her body made it through the entrance unscathed, she fumbled to pull her duffel bag and mat past the door’s grip.

“Oh god, I’d love to see how stilt-legs over there will make it through this,” Santana muttered. 

“Shhh. Be nice.” 

“I’m being honest. If it happens to be rude and insightful, so be it.” She crossed her arms. “The world needs a rancid shot of honesty once in awhile.”

Santana smiled sweetly at her blonde friend. The innocence behind Santana’s playful expression had Quinn’s heart thudding in her chest. All the blonde could think about was how perfect she looked. Even with little to no makeup, the tanned girl would give the entire town a run for its money. Before Quinn could stop herself, she took a step closer. Her head tilted and she slowly leaned into the other girl.

“Lady Quinnavere!” a willowy redhead called out from the entrance. Both Quinn and Santana’s heads snapped towards the voice. “You made it.”

“What the hell is a Quinnavere?” Santana hissed, never taking her eyes off of the girl that interrupted them. She observed as the redhead approached them, her brow knitting together at the stranger’s impending presence. “Your pet name sounds like a stripper you’d find at a cracked-out Renaissa-” Quinn was quick to swat Santana’s arm. “Hey... if you’re gonna bruise me can I at least get some rough sex out of it?”

 _Maybe I’m a sadist?_ Quinn couldn’t help but be curious about her enjoyment in smacking the tanned girl around. And if she was being honest, rough sex didn’t exactly sound like it would be a horrible experience.

“I thought I lost my yoga buddy,” admitted the redhead.

“Not at all, Ann. I told you, once classes settled down, I’d be back in the routine.”

“Yea. Uh huh. You’ve missed yoga classes during other non-school days, too.”

“Well, there is a thing called homework.”

“There’s also a thing called lazy.” The game of words had Santana looking at the two girls with amusement. It wasn’t until the redhead turned her attention directly towards Santana did the brunette snapback to reality. “Hey, I’m Hannah. I go by Ann, too. But not Hannie, so don’t try it.” She extended a hand that Santana reluctantly shook.

“Santana.” Brown eyes narrowed suspiciously. 

“Santana? Is this the one who-” A firm stomp came straight down on Hannah’s foot.

“What the hell.” The redhead bent down to rub at the sore surface. “I’m supposed to balance on this thing.”

“You still have the other one.” Quinn’s remark was cool as ice, but the playful smirk on her lips simply made Hannah roll her eyes. Maybe Quinn’s bitchy exterior had the town of Lima fooled, but Hannah wasn’t having any of it. Quinn was an insecure dork in the shell of a very pretty and bitchy girl, one that just happened to be one-dimensional in her life goals. A girl with the All-American, picturesque, life of having a career, husband, children, and a picket-fenced home. But in the last few weeks, there had been a major shift in gears. Santana, once a character lost in the sea of other Lima natives, became the new recurring lead in topics; Hannah couldn’t help but wonder if Quinn wasn’t as black and white as she had originally thought.

“Geesh, whoever taught you to play footie, failed. Like epically,” jested Hannah. Her free hand slipped down to rest on her hipbone.

“Damn, Quinn. I think I like your new friend.” Santana grinned and mirrored Hannah’s stance.

It was as if mitosis had happened in an offbeat way. There, before Quinn, stood two forms of Santana. The frightening thought had Quinn shaking her head and rubbing at her face. The world couldn’t handle two Santanas. Thankfully, Hannah only had the snark and not the bite. The redhead still had a ways to go before she could reach the heights of Santanahood.

“Don’t you have a class to teach?”

“That I do,” Hannah acknowledged as she retreated to the front of the class. “Hope you can keep up, new girl.”

“With you? I’ll lap around,” Santana responded with a small shrug. “Don’t worry about me, Brave.” 

 

* * *

 

Yoga class went on for what felt like an eternity for Santana. But when all was said and done, she had to admit that it made her feel good to workout again. New York wasn’t exactly a motivator for a tight workout regimen. She could skate by on light workouts for her job; as long as she looked good, it didn’t matter. 

Before that day, Santana’s experiences with yoga had been relaxing – calm stretches and poses that honestly bored her after half an hour. However, by the end of the class, Santana concluded that downward facing dog was the best thing mankind had ever invented. Aside from the lovely view of Quinn’s body, _backside_ , and the couple of light smacks that Santana had slipped in, Hannah’s class was a surprising challenge. But she would never admit to the blonde that the class was anything more than extreme stretching.

At the end of class, Quinn slipped to the front of the room to talk to her friend. Santana didn’t mind being left alone; she had a smartphone to entertain her during the wait. When Quinn made her way back to where Santana sat, she gave an apologetic smile before packing up her stuff. 

“So, we need to make a stop,” Santana announced. A firm leg pushed off from the wall and she headed out the door with full strides.

“Can it wait until later?” 

“Not really. Your stretching class ran later than I thought it would.” The Latina was busy looking at her phone and referencing the nearest street sign. When she figured out where they were, she began to walk to her intended destination without taking a moment to tell the blonde to follow. 

“San, where are you going?”

“Just follow.” Those were the last words that left the brunette’s lips as she disappeared around the corner.

Quinn looked around in slight disbelief before she took off in a light jog to catch up with the other woman. The chase didn’t take long since Santana had stopped moving about a couple blocks away. 

“Took you forever.”

“I’m sorry I took a second. I guess we can’t all keep at top Cheerio shape for the rest of our lives.”

“True,” the brunette concurred.

“So, are you going to tell me why we stopped here?”

“Cause this is the best joint in town.”

“Santana, I’m sure that one of their cupcakes will undo everything we just did,” whined the blonde.

“Quinn, are you my girlfriend today?” Quinn caught the silent plea in the brown orbs before her. She nodded at the question. “Then lemme get you somethin’ from here?”

A frown etched its way onto Santana’s brow. “Could you do me a favor though?”

“Depends. What is it?” The corner of Quinn’s mouth quirked.

“Could you go to the shop down there to get us two coffees? The yelpers were basically willing to give their muff up for the cakes here, but the coffee is apparently comparable to sewer water.” The raven haired girl arched her back to take a look down the street. Her eyes were quick to scan the row of shops until she found what she was looking for. “However, the place with that green door down there. That place allegedly has themselves some crack-laced coffee. I want in, Q.”

“It does.”

“You’ve been? Don’t tell me you’ve tried this cupcake shop, too,” she worried. Blonde hair shook from side to side.  Even if she had tried the cupcake shop, Quinn probably would have lied to see the smile on Santana’s face. “ _Good_. Here, take this.” A twenty dollar bill was shoved into Quinn’s palm.

“No. San, I have money,” the blonde protested.  

“Humor me for today?” Santana leaned in and pressed a kiss to the corner of Quinn’s mouth. “Please.”

“Fine,” Quinn whispered as she kept their closeness. “I’ll see you soon.”

“I wouldn’t have it any other way,” Santana breathed. The partial kiss had her wanting more. In hindsight, it was probably a mistake to tease the both of them with the brief touch.

Pulling back, Quinn turned to begin her walk towards the coffee shop when Santana smacked her ass. She stumbled more from shock than the actual impact. Affording a glare at the brunette, Quinn straightened herself out before walking off.

The line at the bakery was absurd and it was a slow torture considering the aroma was making Santana’s stomach gurgle. It was almost a 30 minute’s wait for her to get her hands on two sugar-bomb, fat-coated, better-be-fucking-worth-it cupcakes. It took all of her willpower not to devour both desserts the moment the cashier handed over the box. 

To Santana’s surprise, she finished up before Quinn. Holding the box close to her body, she made her way down the block and wandered into the coffee shop. Her eyes had to readjust to the darker environment before she was able catch sight of Quinn. The blonde was leaning against the counter and smiling at the male on the other side.

Santana’s jaw tightened at the sight. Taking a calming breath before walking across the narrow shop, Santana made sure to place on her best bitchy look. Her presence went unnoticed by the blonde, causing a frustrated exhale to leave her. Quinn was fully invested in her stupid conversation with dirty-blond barista.

Santana waited until the barista scampered off to the backroom before approaching the blonde from behind. Carefully, she wrapped her arms around Quinn before bringing the cupcake box up to eye level. She kept their bodies snuggled and was pleasantly surprised when Quinn leaned into the embrace, even placing her arms over Santana’s hold.

“Should I be worried that coffee boy will steal you away?” Santana purred into Quinn’s neck.

“Mmm... maybe. He does have all this amazing coffee, and you’re the one with just some cup-”

“Smell ‘em,” she demanded. Quinn leaned forward and took a whiff of the pink box.

“God. That’s... Is that bacon?”

“Geeh, I don’t know if you’ll ever find out now.” Santana loosen her hold and shrugged.

Maybe it was the warmth of the environment, or the way Santana’s body was perfectly flush against hers, or maybe Quinn just really needed to get her bacon on, but something in that moment made it seem right to kiss the slightly shorter girl. Like it was the only logical thing to do.

So Quinn did. She twisted her body around, cupped Santana’s face, and kissed her. It was almost bruising and would have been if the blonde didn’t find her restraints with public displays of affection. The kiss was relatively chaste; they were proper ladies, after all. Once it tapered Quinn playfully nipped Santana’s bottom lip as she pulled away.

Miss Santana Lopez could thoroughly fuck her, but at least Quinn Fabray could say that she redefined the world of kissing for the other girl.

“Ahem.” The sound came from behind the counter. “Quinn, your-erm, your order is done.”

“Thanks, Adam. I’ll see you in Thompson’s class.”

“Yea, not like anyone can afford to miss a day.” He wiped down the countertop as he spoke. “Thanks again for sending me those notes.”

“Not a problem.” Quinn nodded towards the door. Santana got the message and they both began to leave. “Bye, Adam. Tell Jen I send her my best wishes.”

“My girlfriend would be happy to hear it. Enjoy your day, ladies.” Adam waved them off before turning his attention to another customer.

Quinn and Santana waved at the young man before departing from the shop to head back to the dorm. But on the way, Quinn took a detour to a nearby park. It was an impromptu picnic with their cupcakes and coffees. She figured that the setting was a much nicer way for them to spend their evening than in a cramped dorm box.

After an hour of lazing around the park, eating, sipping on coffee, and possibly sharing a few affectionate kisses, they both agreed that a real dinner was necessary. Having slept through breakfast and lunch, they had eaten the maple bacon cupcakes all too quickly. 

The short walk back to the dorms gave the girls enough time to compromise on Italian dining for the evening. Quinn even let Santana have the final say on which restaurant they would go to, and she was rewarded with a beaming smile.

They showered, separately, and got dressed for the second time that day. It was a routine they were adapting to quite nicely. Dinner came and went in a flash. The two girls talked for hours and stayed until the restaurant closed. The place was much better than BreadstiX in terms of food. But to Santana’s disappointment, there wasn’t unlimited bread at this eatery; as much as the Lima joint sucked, you sometimes couldn’t beat the taste of free breadsticks. 

With full bellies and sore limbs, both girls collapsed into bed after they got back. Barely managing to muster up the energy to get ready to turn in for the night, they stripped out of their clothing at the pace of slugs and dragged each other down the hall to the bathroom.

Along the way, Quinn exchanged brief pleasantries with a few passing students. The act of genuine kindness had Santana in awe. She recognized the woman in front of her by way of physical features, but _this person_ wasn’t exactly the girl she knew in Lima. This side of Quinn had an openness to her; like a layer of bitch had been peeled away from her. This side of Quinn would have Santana falling hard if she wasn’t careful. Especially if the brunette kept receiving Quinn’s little smiles.

Quinn returned to the room before Santana and went about straightening out their discarded clothing. She folded and placed them neatly on the surface of her desk, her eyes catching the black numbers on her whiteboard. **12:21**. Hazel eyes glanced over to her digital clock. It was almost one. She picked at her nails in thought. The day had slipped right through her fingers. Not that it hadn’t been enjoyable, or that she would trade it for anything, but Quinn silently cursed herself. Lost in an internal battle, Quinn didn’t notice Santana’s return to the room.

“Whacha doin’?” Santana inquired as she approached.

Quinn turned around to face the other girl. She leaned into the spine of the wooden chair and bent her arms to grip the top of the backrest.

“It’s been over 12 hours, Santana.” Quinn dropped her gaze to the floor. “Our experiment is coming to an end.”

Closing the space between them, Santana placed a firm, but gentle, grip onto Quinn’s hip. She slipped her thumbs under the layer of sleepwear and rubbed lightly at bare skin.

“I promised you a day. 12 hours isn’t a full day, correct?” Quinn nodded in agreement. “And technically, sleeping shouldn’t count... so I think we’ll just have to continue this tomorrow, kay?” Santana nodded her own head that time and Quinn copied the action

“You’re right.”

“I know. Remember to always keep that in mind.” Santana shot a lazy smile at Quinn before she covered her mouth to yawn. “C’mon, time for sleep.”

That night, they both passed out within minutes of settling into the bed.


	4. Friday

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you to everyone that keeps on supporting this story. I suck. You all deserve great updates and I couldn't upload this one until I felt happy with it. I want to also give thanks to my girlfriend, Kai, for reading this over and fixing it up. You are amazing. To Lizardmm, your feedback always matters to me.
> 
> Thank you for taking the time to read this.
> 
> Oh! Major sorry to the person who reached out on tumblr about this update. I failed at making that "within two weeks" goal. I hope you see this update. Now let's go enjoy.

**Friday**

A change in weather brought with it a morning light that was gentler than the days prior. It cast a soft glow over the college town, playing a hand in the sound sleep of the temporary bedmates. Cool air slipped past stained wood window trim, pushing fine specks of dust against the bottom of clean blinds; matters of cleanliness that Quinn would methodically address once she was alone and back in her weekly routine.

Blonde and brunette tresses had muddled as two friends burrowed into each other's embrace throughout the night and deep into the early hours. Intimate touches that sought out comfort passed between them countless times. In the confines of Quinn's room, the two friends could acknowledge, to some degree, that it was no longer a simple matter of pretend roles they were clinging to, but the possibility of a future they couldn't control.

A loud succession of buzzes vibrated against the surface of Quinn's desk and roused her from sleep. The nuisance of a sound had Quinn cursing in her head before she even tried to move. It only took her a moment of conscious thought to notice the stagnant weight on her shoulder; it was a good indication of her mobility in that moment. Cautiously, hazel eyes peeked opened to see ink-black hair draped over her chest. This was the second time that Quinn had awoken to the tanned girl touching her in some way. Only this time Santana was using one of Quinn's twin peaks as a substitute pillow.  _She's a little spoon. So seemingly innocent... more like the demonic spawn of a hot Elizabeth-Hurley-type of devil._

Quinn couldn't help but smile at her private thoughts. Delicate fingers carefully tucked away wild strands of dark hair. It wasn't until she twisted her bottom half into a more comfortable position that she noticed the warm hand slipped below the waistband of her pajamas bottoms. The firm hold had molded itself to her hipbone. She didn't know if she should have thanked or curse the heavens that the tanned hand touching her wasn't further south.  _You're horrible in the best of ways, San. I hope you know that._

Another rapid sequence of buzzes vibrated against the top of the desk. The echoing sound, this time, broke the girls' embrace and a few choice curse words broke the placid silence. Determined to extend their time in bed, Santana tugged on the blonde's torso to pull their bodies closer before she settled one of her legs over Quinn's lower half.

"Don't get that," she mumbled against Quinn's neck. The feathery action caused the blonde to squirm, a soft laugh escaped her lips.

"As pleasant as it is to wake up this way," she laughed before placing a chaste kiss on the side of Santana's head.  _Oh, Jesus. Can you rewind time by like 5 seconds so I can take back that ridiculous kiss? Thank you. Love, Quinn. Also, since I'm already speaking with you, could you possibly give me an A in my math class? Double thanks._

She sighed, unaware that she had brought a free hand up to the back of Santana's neck and began to massage it. "I don't think it's healthy for us to stay like this all day."

"Says you. I think it's completely healthy," Santana replied before placing a few kisses across the side of Quinn's neck. Quinn had started the whole kissing thing after all and Santana was no fool to pass on returning the favor. "How 'bout I convince you?"

"Mmm, you're not planning to play fair are you?" Quinn could feel the playful slip of Santana's tongue across her skin. "God— fuck,  _Santana..."_ Quinn's hips bucked against Santana's pelvis.

"Hey there cowgirl." The rough contact caused Santana to lift her head up. A pearly white smile flashed down at Quinn. "Cool your horny jets." Her playful words were met with a menacing glare that quickly morphed into half-lidded seduction.

"Let's see how cool your jets can stay then," Quinn purred. "'Cause I'm pretty sure they're running hot and I haven't even done anything yet." Slender fingers raked their way up the inner part of Santana's thigh, causing the loose fabric to bunch up; the friction leaving a slight burn in its trail.

The phone buzzed again.

"You're either super popular this morning, have a broken phone, or will soon own a broken one cause I'm 'bout to break it." The smaller girl shoved her face back into Quinn's neck in frustration. Her voice pleaded in a quiet whine, " _Make it stop_."

" _Okay_. Give it to me?" There was a soft lure in her voice. A private whisper that sent shivers down the brunette's spine and an instant warmth to build between her legs.

Without lifting her head, Santana slapped her hand on the wooden surface and felt her way around for the phone. Grasping the palmful of annoyance, she handed the device to Quinn. She was somewhere between grumpy and sexy, it was a complex balance that not many people could do, but she walked it well. At least that's what Quinn made a mental note of as she took her phone off standby.

Deciding to not let the opportunity of a preoccupied Quinn slip by, full lips descended upon her exposed neck again.

Quinn could feel her body tense from the contact. She was painfully aware of the kisses which turned from closed-lip pecks to heated ones that lingered– it was damning. She was feeling things she honestly never felt before and a part of her was scared that this, out of everything she had ever experienced, felt right.  _She's re-mmmm-uh..re...lentless._

"You— You're going to leave a mark." Quinn's voice wavered at the deepened caress.

" _No_ , I won't." Santana's words were confident, as if she knew for a fact how far the limits of Quinn's skin could be pushed.

They were falling down the rabbit hole and fast. It honestly felt amazing to have skilled lips ravish her. Every kiss felt like a small promise of future things to come. The blonde quickly found herself reveling in the ebb and flow their bodies so easily created.

Hazel eyes fluttered shut as moistened lips trailed the skin along the base of her neck. Tension mounted between the girls at a maddening pace. If it wasn't for the playful nips to loosen the thickness in the air, Quinn would have made the disclaimer that she could no longer be held accountable for her own actions. She wanted this.

The vibration in her hand broke the spell.

Garnering all of her strength, Quinn snapped her eyes open to look down at her overly active phone. Her brow knitted together at the glowing screen. Over the course of the last hour, her phone had filled with emails and text messages from a couple of her fellow classmates. The barrage of messages captured Quinn's attention. Each email and text expressed an escalated concern over one of the members in her latest "team building" assignment; a group project that was due by midnight.

Quinn hadn't procrastinated or slacked on this particular assignment. No, she had managed this project with a masterful hand. Each person had their part and the proper transitions were in place so that the entire paper would have a cohesive flow. What Quinn hadn't predicted was a member going completely off-grid. And if she hadn't been so wrapped up in her own personal affairs, she would have caught this issue earlier and addressed it properly.

"Damn it." Quinn threw her head back deeper into her pillow and slammed the flat object into her mattress.

"What's wrong?" Manicured eyebrows knitted together.

"Stupid people, that's what's wrong," she huffed.

"Amen," Santana briefly raised her hands in agreement. "But you need to elaborate, Lady Vague."

"It's my group project." Hazel eyes stared up at the ceiling in disbelief of the situation.

Santana could almost see the gears reeling in Quinn's head. It wasn't until she twirled a couple strands of blonde hair did she recapture Quinn's gaze.

"One of the members isn't responding to her emails or calls and we need her part. I think she's overseas during the entire break too," Quinn sighed. "On a mission or something."

"So basically what I'm hearing is that I need to go slap a bitch for ruining my girlfriend time?"

" _Our_ time, and yes." Quinn had begun to mirror Santana's hair teasing.

"So, I'm thinking it's safe to say that your face is gonna be glued to your laptop all day," Santana assumed with a pout.

"I'm sorry." A pained look flashed across Quinn's face.

"It's fine. You're lucky that I can find entertainment anywhere I go." In one swift movement, firm legs rooted themselves on the outer sides of Quinn's thighs. Santana sat comfortably on top of her with a smug look of certainty. "And if there is no entertainment to be found, I'll make it."

"Behave, Santana. Please don't do anything crazy," Quinn pleaded. "Remember, once you're bored with me and go back to New York, I still have to live in this town."

"And what I'm hearing from that is I should stay in BoreVille, USA and do whatever I want."

"Of course you would."

"So, first on my To-Do list is..." A finger playfully swiped at Quinn's nose.

"Oh, really? I thought you said whatever, not whoever." She quirked her eyebrow in amusement.

"You say tomato, I say potato. It's all the same." Santana shrugged at her words and wiggled into place.

"Shut up."

"And?" Santana stared at Quinn for a reply, when the blonde was at a loss for words, she rolled her eyes. "'Shut up and kiss me.' I thought you're a romcom whore, how can you not use that line?"

"Oh. Guess I can't think straight." Quinn rolled her pelvis, the rough grind caused Santana to shudder. "Why don't you put those lips to good use, Lopez. I would hate for my girlfriend credit to expire with all this talk."

"I would hate for that too," she echoed in agreement. "But your need to be a good student is making this girlfriend experience very difficult. I say, lemme taint you."

"Sounds like a dream that just won't come to fruition." Quinn exaggerated a sigh. "How bout we put a pin in our little game and continue it  _after_  I do my assignment?"

"Tick-Tock, Quinnavere." She placed a quick kiss near Quinn's ear before bouncing off the bed. "There are orgasms to be had."

Amused with herself, Santana grinned at the girl below her. Her humor was unfortunately not shared. "I mean cuddles? Boat loads of cuddles."

 

* * *

 

Nothing in New Haven was exciting. It was boring, simple, and everything that Santana would hate in a place she'd called home. She did live in New York for a reason.

But alas, for poor Santana, there she was. With each step she took through the town, she found herself scoping out the different areas with a strange and familiar ease. She went back to the coffee shop from the day before and then checked out a few small boutiques; in doing so, she only managed to kill about an hour of her time. Though, one particular store had a 'You had me at Bacon' shirt in its display window– she didn't have to think twice before snatching that shirt up in a small.

But all the shopping felt more like errands with no one else to enjoy it with.

Most of the Yalies that she had encountered didn't exactly rub her the right way. In private thoughts, Santana was terrified at the prospect of Quinn turning into one of them. So the brunette planned to take preventative measures, she would have to visit Quinn often and slap some New York into her.

Toying with the idea amused her enough for her to walk a few blocks further.

It was only when she reached a corner bookstore, did Santana really take her time meandering around. She picked up a few random photography books and spent her time learning about the foreign subject. Quinn had a better understanding of this stuff and not wanting to be outdone, Santana used the spare time to up her game. At least that was how she was reasoning it to herself.

"You know, it's not cool to be a creeper, right?" The raven-haired girl spoke without so much as a glance up from her book.

"Yea? I wouldn't know. Since I'm not exactly doing that." Santana looked up upon hearing the response. She was met with honey speckled eyes- it was the type of color that she found difficult to break her gaze from. The slender girl was taller, her long black hair had sparse strips of red and blonde running its entire length. Fair skin exposed itself by way of a v-neck tee, and it was enough to see that this girl had her fair share of tattoos; a provocative design ran the course of her right clavicle. In honesty, the Latina's throat felt a little dry at the sight before her.

"Oh yea? You hovering back here for the last few minutes isn't creep-tastic at all."

"Seems like you were watching me too." The stranger went about rearranging a few books on the shelf.

"Had too." Santana snapped her book shut. "Ignoring creepers isn't an option, that's how people end up on Dateline or get adapted into an SVU plotline."

"Is that so?"

"Yup. And I don't plan to be on either." Santana frowned at her words. "I take that back. I don't plan on being a plotline on SVU, but as a special guest star, sure, why not? They could always use a fresh face."

"Oh, so you're a theater major." Dimples pushed past a shy smile. "Or is someone with a pretty face like yours already in a handful of movies and I'm just too lame to know?"

"I'm Santana.  _Future_  pretty face that will grace the cover of movies and television shows." The brunette had almost extended her hand in greeting but decided against it. She was comfortable sitting on the ground, but a part of her was also aware of her very numb legs. And standing up on numb limbs was about as sexy as giving a lap dance in a full leg cast. Instead, she wrapped her arms around the book she was reading and opted for a smile.

"And I'm Kristen. Current bookstore employee and an apparent creep."

"You at least have the cuteness factor going for you. It's much better than being a basement perv with hairy palms."

"Gross." Kristen made a disgusted face at the visual.

"Exactly." Santana grinned at the effectiveness of her words.

A bell on the front door rang and a group of voices could be heard entering the building.

"And that's my cue to go. I have to help a book club set up. It was nice meeting you, Santana." Kristen straightened out her clothes and began to walk towards the front of the store. But before she was out of sight, she paused. "I'll see you around?"

"Yeah... see ya." Shaking her head in amusement, Santana snatched the rest of the books she was reading and returned them to the selves they came from. She did however keep one and headed towards the front counter to make her purchase. With three hours of uninterrupted focus on the subject of photography, she was confident in her abilities to hold up her end of a convo on the topic.

 

* * *

  

Quinn frantically typed to pull the group project together. Without the work of the fourth member, the group had a gaping hole in their paper. As tense as she was, the first thing she did after Santana left was call the other members to calm their nerves. Luckily for her, the years of mastering her cool exterior could be put to use in stressful situations like these. The excessive emails and texting came to an immediate halt and if her phone were alive, it would have thanked her.

This was a large portion of their grade and none of them could afford to get anything below a B. And as group leader, Quinn wasn't about to be the person to let the ball drop.

Without word from her professor or the missing group member, Quinn assumed the worst. She had to redo the missing part herself. Something was better than nothing. She needed to slam the words out and fast. Research was half-ass, but it was the best she could do if she wanted to get this done on time. And in the hours that she was alone, that's exactly what she was up to. Tapping at keys with determined fury.

Sporadic bouts of worry invaded her thoughts as she typed. What if the emails to her teacher didn't go through and she was waiting on a response to an email that was lost in a virtual blackhole? All she wanted was a response from someone. She could at least rest easier that way.  _God, what if this all was done in vain?_

She chastised herself for using the spring recess extension as a mental write-off, but this assignment wasn't supposed to be that hard. Their final parts were supposed to come together effortlessly, taking Quinn an hour, at most, to format and submit.

Instead, she was on break and trying her best to throw together the fourth part of the paper that they had weeks to work on. It's not like her other two group members were of much use. Both were on vacation and were simply checking in to see if things were going well.

A knock at her door startled her.

"It's open," she rasped. Hours of not using her voice had it breaking at the seams.

The wooden door crept open to reveal her visitor. Quinn couldn't have been happier to see the man that stood before her. For a split second, her vision tunneled, focusing on the man as though he was a superhero coming to her rescue.

"Professor Harris, I've been trying to get a hold of you since this morning."

Quinn's unexpected guest was a striking man who looked as if he stepped off the pages of a Burberry catalogue; it was almost annoying if it wasn't so fitting. His hair was styled to a tee and he sported modern, black-framed glasses. He even smelled the part. It was the norm for every student to fall under his spell, so much so that they had a name for it: _'Jamaffect- When you turn into sticky mush.'_ Even Quinn couldn't deny that he had played into a few of her fantasies; for god's sake, he was the lucky character at the center of her slightly– completely– contrived Yale "affair."

"Remember, it's James," he corrected with a gentle smile. "But hello, Miss Fabray–"

" _Quinn_ ," she countered.

" _Quinn_ , I apologize for not reaching out to you all morning, I've been busy with family affairs." He stood firmly rooted at the entrance of her room as he rifled through his bag. Pulling out a large stack of stapled papers stained in red marks, he held out one essay towards Quinn. "Here, I believe you were looking for this."

"You are a lifesaver." She placed her laptop off to the side on her bed and went to retrieve the essay.

"Not exactly. I had intended to give a copy of this to you on the last day of class so we could discuss changing a minor part from your paper to flow with Sara's better." Guilt washed over his features. "As you can see, I didn't do what I intended. But don't worry; your group will have until the end of spring break to submit. This was my oversight. Sara was relying on my word that I'd pass this onto you."

"All that matters is that the last piece of the puzzle is here now."

"I wish I could stay to discuss some of my suggestions, but I must take off for a flight. My notes should be more than enough to give you an idea of what I mean." His hand gripped the strap of his messenger bag, while the other tucked the stack of paper closer to his body. "Remember to return this copy to me once class starts."

Quinn nodded.

"Thank you." She flashed a smile at him in gratitude. "I really appreciate it."

"Enjoy the rest of your break, Quinn." James leaned forward to close the door behind him.

"You too." As she turned to walk back to her bed, Quinn stopped in her tracks and frowned in curiosity. "Hey, James?"

"Yes, Quinn?" The door swung open once again.

"How did you know this was my room?"

"Oh." He scratched the back of his head, making him look years younger than he really was. "My nephew has an art class with you and lives right down the hall. We were at breakfast when I was checking student emails and he..."

The thought that her privacy could be compromised at the cost of a meal disturbed her. Concern painted over her features as she tried to recall the face of his nephew, and how maybe, her girlf-  _Santana_  could show him a piece of her mind for her.

Seeing Quinn's frown, James was quick to blurt out "I'll make sure to talk to him about divulging the room numbers of his peers so easily." With a quick wave, and awkward smile, he slammed her door shut and hustled down the hall.

 

* * *

  

With the signs of the evening sun out in full force, Santana figured she was ready to wrap up her outing. She was tired, but a part of her was also excited to share with Quinn her "Ha-venture", get in a few kisses, and unpin the whole girlfriend thing. She was ready for it.

Strong legs hurried up flights of stairs. Santana even found a renewed bounce in her steps as she made her way deeper into the building. As she turned the corner to reach the hallway of Quinn's room, Santana briefly shifted focus to the bags in her hands and went to retrieve the shirt she had bought for Quinn.

All is well in walking blind until you hit something or someone.

"Shit. I'm sorry." The words that came out surprised her. First, she didn't insult the guy by calling him "blind with two left feet" or tell him to go take a course in walking. Second, she'd admitted that she was at fault. Lastly, she apologized.

It was then that she concluded that New Haven water was poisoning her into nicehood. After all, she was in a questionably good mood for someone that hasn't gotten laid.

"Here, let me help with this mess." Santana instinctively bent down to pick up the fallen items from the ground. Her hands grabbed at a multitude of scattered paper. It wasn't until Santana noticed a lone pipe on the floor did she think anything of the man that she had collided with. A firm hand picked up the distinct wood object to tuck it into the inner pocket of a knitted bomber jacket and away from Santana's sight.

For the first time, brown orbs observed the features of the man before her. He was a handsome specimen; he had a chiseled jaw, was strong in stature, and stood out like a sore thumb among the sea of students that roamed the building. His outfit made him look older, more mature, as though he was someone well established. If Santana didn't question why he'd come from the direction of Quinn's room before, her mind was racing then. It was  _him_. The age, the look, the style, the stupid pipe.

Quinn's special Yale extracurricular activity in the flesh.

Snapping from her thoughts, Santana handed the paper back to the man. "I'm usually not a clutz. I hope I didn't ruin your pipe or anything."

"Ha! It's not a problem. That thing is as sturdy as a rock." Filing away the papers, he flashed Santana a grateful smile. He was even one of those people blessed with a naturally charming, toothpaste commercial, smile. "Thank you for the help. I hope you have a wonderful break young lady."

"Yea. You too." She watched as he walked past her and disappeared down the hall. Twisting her neck around, Santana stared at Quinn's room as she chewed on her bottom lip. The yearning to rush back into the confined space was no longer with her. Her stomach churned and the air started to feel muggy. The tightening in her chest was either from that bacon cupcake coming back to claim her soul or she was affected by this– whatever the hell 'this' even was. No matter the reason, she needed to leave.

So she did.

Before she knew what she was doing, Santana rushed down the flights of stairs and crashed through the front doors of the building. She needed to breathe in air that wasn't laced with reminders of Quinn. The blonde was a complication wrapped up in a body of perfection and Santana needed to get away from that. Things were becoming murky when they should have been crystal clear. They were frienemies that enjoyed the same warm bed along with harmless flirting. What they were not supposed to be were snuggle buddies that cared about who the other person may or may not be banging on the side.

They were supposed to be pretending to be something more to the other person for the purpose of entertainment. It was a game. They weren't supposed to fall.

Heeled boots clicked against the pavement as Santana paced the front grounds of the aged dormitory.

She rubbed at her arms to keep her mind from falling into the trap of thinking about a certain blonde. It was then that she began to walk. Walk instead of think. Step after step, leading her to nowhere in particular. Ten minutes later, Santana found herself at the small park that Quinn had brought her to the day before.

She rolled her eyes. Only  _she_ would be so lucky to try running from thoughts of Quinn and in doing so come full circle back to a place that does nothing but make her think of the blonde. Sighing at her own stupidity, she made her peace with the park as her place for solitude, but it wasn't like she had much choice. Her feet were killing her.

Her thoughts and emotions overwhelmed her, and, thankfully, their intensity seemed to lessen in the openness of the air. What was Quinn's game? Santana didn't want to think over such a disgustingly childish scenario, but she couldn't help it. If Quinn was seeing this professor, why had she dragged Santana into her tangled web? What was in it for her? It's not like Quinn could humiliate her in front of their fellow classmates anymore. She rubbed at her face with her hands in frustration. Minutes turned into hours in the privacy of the public park.  _Ironic._ It wasn't until street lights flickered on did the concept of time hit her again. She looked at her forgotten phone and saw the flurry of messages from a worried blonde. She had forgotten that it was on silent.

After a deep breath, Santana pulled herself from the comforts of the park bench to walk the short distance back to the dorm. It took her a few moments before gathering the strength to open the room's door, but when she did, Quinn's eyes immediately snapped up from her laptop. She visibly looked relieved to see Santana return in one piece.

Santana forced a shy smile in her quiet entrance. It almost felt like a library. Even the sound of her bags being placed on the floor was loud over the soft hum of the laptop fan.

"I was going to send out a search party to find you." A full smile danced on her pink lips as she settled her laptop back onto her desk. "But I must say, you have amazing timing. I just sent off my assignment and am officially homework free. How's that for impressive?"

"It's very impressive."

"I'm glad you see things my way, keep it up Lopez." She approached Santana with a playful saunter. "So, you know that this means I'm entirely free to be yours again. And I think I'd like to cash in on our girlfriend experience starting..."

Their bodies were almost fully pressed together when Quinn finally stopped moving. It was a position that made Quinn smirk. She playfully tugged on Santana's pant zipper with one hand as her other ran the course of the brunette's inner thigh. "...right now."

"Maybe– maybe we should slow down." Santana grabbed onto Quinn's hands to stop her actions. "I think we should go get some dinner. It's late and I'm thinkin' you haven't eaten anything today."

"Not yet anyway." Quinn's suggestive attitude didn't help with the questions that swarmed Santana's head. "Oh. But on a serious note. We're going out with my friends for food, if that's okay?"

"Yea. That sounds good." The words came out flat and Santana mentally cursed herself. She hated that her emotions were showing so easily. Quinn could tell that something was off, but she wasn't about to pry and risk Santana being mad at her for doing so.

"You already met Hannah, so there's that. Carry and Liam will also be joining us," she explained.

"When is this dinner?"

"Um." Quinn glanced at her wall clock. "Now?"

"You were about to get in my pants a minute ago," she mused.

"It would have been worth it. Anyway, they already assume we're going at it like bunnies in heat." A light shade of red swept over Quinn's cheeks as she quirked a smile. The innocent sight was close to breaking Santana's mood. There was something about this side of Quinn that was mesmerizing. And to see Quinn genuinely cheerful, well, that made Santana's heart work overtime; she didn't look like there was a weight on her shoulder anymore. Quinn simply looked content with who she was.

But when Santana's eyes descended onto Quinn's bed, her stomach dropped and her walls came up.

"Why would they think that?"

"It's okay, San. It's harmless. Let people think what they will." Quinn hooked her fingers into Santana's front pockets. "All that matters is you and I are on the same page, right?"

Unfortunately for Santana, she didn't know if she and Quinn were even reading the same book, let alone be on the same page. But she nodded her head in agreement and went through with dinner. She just didn't want to be alone with Quinn. Dinner and then going straight to bed sounded like a brilliant plan.

At the restaurant, Santana did her best to be normal, to not think about Quinn and Professor Charming. She tried to keep involved in conversations and made sure to throw in plenty of smiles. The few hours spent getting to know Quinn's friends was overall an enjoyable experience. And if Santana's "funk" wasn't such a dark cloud, she probably would have looked forward to the prospect of hanging out with the group again.

It wasn't until they got back from dinner and got ready for bed did it feel like there was an elephant in the room. Both girls stood in their sleepwear and stared at the bed. It was when Quinn couldn't stand the tension in the room anymore and opened her mouth to speak that Santana interrupted her.

" _So_. I think we should update this thing." She picked up a dry erase marker from Quinn's desk and scribbled on the whiteboard:  _Countdown, 11 hours._

Quinn frowned at the number. "You're really keeping track of our girlfriend time aren't you?"

"Well, yea. What's a game if you don't follow the rules?" she countered.

"Yea, it wouldn't be a game then..." The words faded from her lips, hurt clearly written on Quinn's face.

"Game, experiment. We're testing this out for you."

"Of course. It's all fun and games." Quinn frowned. Even she didn't believe the things that were coming out of her mouth. "C'mon. Let's get some sleep. I'm tired."

"Agreed. But before I forget, I got you something," Santana piped. She was quick to grab the shirt she had bought from earlier and tossed it to Quinn. It hadn't be her ideal way at presenting the gift, but it wasn't like she was about to grab Quinn and kiss her anytime soon.

The taller girl looked over the words and laughed. It was a cute shirt. And if there wasn't such a weird thickness in the air, Quinn would have used that moment as the perfect opportunity to thank her 'girlfriend' properly, thoroughly, and  **repeatedly**. But things were off, and Santana was giving her the most confusing signals in the world.  _Why are girls so damn hard to read?_

Taking a deep breath, Quinn leaned in and placed a small kiss on Santana's cheek. She muttered her thanks. When she pulled back, she grabbed onto Santana's hand and pulled towards the bed hoping that a good night's rest would fix whatever went wrong between them.

Her pull was met with resistance.

"I think I'm gonna take the other bed tonight, Q. I'll get better sleep with more space on the bed." It was a flatout lie and they both knew it. "Where do you keep your sheets?"

For a moment, Quinn wasn't sure if what she heard was right, but when Santana moved across the room Quinn knew that her ears weren't deceiving her. Too shocked to speak, she could only point towards her closet door in response.

Although they lay in separate beds for that night, both girls shared the same hurt, confusion, and lingering hope that  _they_  would be okay in the morning. Needless to say, sound sleep evaded them.


End file.
